


hear my soul speak

by spaceburgers



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 17:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10926885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceburgers/pseuds/spaceburgers
Summary: Kasamatsu accidentally tells someone he's dating Kise. Kise decides to roll with it. Fake dating shenanigans ensue.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> according to the knb wiki kasamatsu is so bad at talking to girls that all the girls in his class decided to take pity on him and only ask him yes or no questions and i think about this fact every single day
> 
> also i didn't plan on this becoming a multichap but here it is anyway oops!!!
> 
> this is set between the interhighs and the winter cup, which i've just arbitrarily decided three chapters in

Kasamatsu is not good at talking to girls.

It’s not that he _dislikes_ girls. Kasamatsu likes girls just fine. It’s just—he can’t help it. Every time he tries to talk to a girl, he opens his mouth and finds himself inexplicably tongue-tied. He knows how it goes by now: red face, sweaty palms, a complete inability to string more than four words together.

It’s bad enough just trying to ask a girl in his class about yesterday’s homework. This, though— _this,_ he has absolutely no idea how to handle.

He’s seen her sometimes, sitting on the bleachers, watching basketball practice. He’d always just assumed she was another one of Kise’s groupies, though, so he’d never paid her any attention. Except he’s only now finding out that he has, in fact, got it all wrong.

“Please,” she says, bowed low, her blushing face partially hidden by the bangs that fall over her forehead. With both her hands, she’s clutching an envelope so tightly that the paper’s starting to crumple.

Kasamatsu had not anticipated this. He hadn’t anticipated this at all. All he’d done was walk out of the court to get a drink from the vending machines during basketball practice. He’s still sweating from the drills he’d been doing with the team earlier. There’s a towel slung over his shoulders, ratty and disgusting because he keeps forgetting to wash it, and this girl is standing in front of him with outstretched hands and her heart on her sleeve.

“Um,” he says.

“I know this is sudden,” the girl says, and Kasamatsu doesn’t even know her name, _he doesn’t even know her name_ , this is definitely one of the top ten worst moments in his entire life up to this point, “but I hope you’ll accept this.”

Kasamatsu opens his mouth, and then closes it again.

“I can’t,” is what his brain eventually decides on.

“What?” She finally looks up, startling so badly she practically jumps. Her eyebrows are drawn together defiantly, like she’s not planning on taking no for an answer. Panic is rising very rapidly in Kasamatsu’s chest. “Why not?”

“Because, uh—” _Think, Kasamatsu, think. Think of a good excuse. You’re third-year, you need to focus on basketball, and then on entrance exams. You don’t have time to date. Yeah, just say that. It’s a completely legitimate reason. It’s—_ “I’m seeing someone else.”

That was not what he had been planning on saying. At all.

“You are?” The girl blinks at him. Her expression right now is somewhere in between distressed and just plain confused. More on the confusion side, though. Definitely more confused than anything else. “Who?”

“Er,” Kasmatsu says. “I—”

“Senpai!” Kise calls from behind, jogging over to him. “Coach said he wanted to talk to you about someth—”

“This guy,” Kasamatsu says, and grabs onto Kise’s arm.

There is a long silence. The girl looks at it where Kasamatsu’s holding onto Kise. Kise looks at Kasamatsu. Kasamatsu isn’t looking at anything at all. All he can think is, _what the hell did I just do_.

“Oh,” she says at last. She straightens up, puts her hands back to her sides. “Oh. I didn’t know.” A pause. “ _Oh_ ,” she says again, softer this time.

Kasamatsu doesn’t say anything. Neither does Kise. He keeps on staring at Kasamastu. Kasamatsu just wants to lie face down on the floor and die right now.

“I—I understand,” she continues, after another long pause. “I’m sorry for bothering you.” She bows again, and when she straightens up she’s actually smiling. “I wish the both of you well!”

And then she’s off, jogging away in the opposite direction, leaving a very confused Kise and a very distressed Kasamatsu behind.

“Senpai,” Kise says, “what just happened?”

“I,” Kasamatsu says. Then stops. Then inhales deeply. Then starts again. “A girl tried to confess to me, and I accidentally told her I was already dating you.”

Silence. Kasamatsu realizes he’s still holding onto Kise’s arm. He lets go immediately.

Kise looks at his arm, then at Kasamatsu’s hand, then back at Kasamatsu’s face.

“Okay,” he says.

“What?”

“I’ll pretend like we’re actually dating so that you can salvage your dignity.”

“ _What?_ ”

“What do you mean _what_?”

“At what point in this conversation did the question of _fake dating_ ever come up—”

“It’s the perfect plan, senpai! Don’t you think so—”

“I do _not_ think so. We don’t even need to tell anybody about what happened, this is ridiculous—”

“What makes you think she isn’t already telling every single one of her friends, who’s going to tell every single one of _their_ friends, and then so on until the entire school finds out—”

“That’s not going to happen.” Kasamatsu glares up at Kise, who frowns back down at him. “Forget it. Go back to practice. I’m going to go talk to Coach Takeuchi.”

Kise looks like he’s about to argue, but then Kasamatsu can see the exact moment he decides it isn’t worth it.

“Fine,” he says at last, and then turns around to leave.

Kasamatsu stands rooted to the spot, watching him go. It’s only when Kise’s finally gone that he lets himself put his face in hands and mumble into his palms, “That’s not going to happen. It’s not going to happen.”

-

Because the entire universe is against him, that is _exactly_ what happens.

When Kasamatsu wakes up the next day, he can almost forget about the whole debacle of the day before. He lies in bed, one eye cracked open as he fumbles for his alarm clock. Outside, the sun is starting to rise. There’s the faint sound of birds chirping. It’s exactly the same as any other day. As Kasamatsu stares at the ceiling of his bedroom, he can almost pretend it’s going to be a perfectly normal day. Almost.

He rolls over and plants his face into his pillow. He thinks he’s allowed to be a couple of minutes later than usual today.

Eventually he manages to drag himself out of bed, throw on his uniform, and sprint out the door. His sense of responsibility as the captain of the basketball team is outweighing his sense of impending doom, and in line with the whole _pretending nothing’s wrong_ thing, he decides he should at least make the effort to be on time for morning practice.

Except said sense of impending doom ends up intensifying when he’s halfway to school and his phone buzzes with a text message. It’s only compounded when he looks at his phone and realizes it’s from Moriyama. Never a good sign.

Steeling himself, Kasamatsu unlocks his phone to look at the message.

All it says is:

_ > r u finally dating kise and didn't tell me??????? im VERY offended_

Kasamatsu lets out a very long breath through his nose.

_> There are so many things wrong with that text, but the most pressing of them is: I AM NOT DATING KISE._

_> what do u mean ur not dating kise_

_> IT MEANS EXACTLY WHAT IT MEANS_

_> that’s not what im hearing_

_> From who?_

_> from literally everyone in school lol_

At which point Kasamatsu decides to shove his phone deep into the recesses of his bag and continue stomping to school.

It’s early, so most people aren’t here yet; but he sees athletes from the other sports teams also here for their own morning practices, and as he walks past them, their stares could not be any more obvious if they tried.

Kasamatsu just squares his jaw and keeps walking. He’ll be damned if he lets a stupid misunderstanding ruin his day. Or week. Or the rest of his academic year.

When he finally gets to the basketball court and flings the door open, it’s to find every single pair of eyes in the room fixed on him.

Including Kise, who blinks, his surprise quickly morphing into a bright smile.

“ _Senpai!_ ” he calls, so cheerful that it’s frankly offensive.

“I need to talk to you. Right now.” Kasamatsu scowls at Kise, then turns to scowl at the rest of the team too. “As for the rest of you, go warm up with ten laps around the court.”

There are a few muffled groans, but Kasamatsu pays them no heed, instead opting to grab Kise by the wrist and drag him out of the basketball court and into the hallway where hopefully they won’t be overheard.

“What the hell have you been telling them?” Kasamatsu hisses.

“Nothing!” Kise answers far too quickly. Kasamatsu doesn’t even need to say anything, just looks at Kise until he deflates. “Fine. They asked me if it was really true that we’re dating, and I said yes.”

“ _Why?_ ” Kasamatsu screeches, his voice rising an octave. Out of anger, not hysteria. Definitely not hysteria.

“Because if I told them that no, it’s not true, Kasamatsu-senpai just said that because he panicked and stuck his foot into his mouth in front of a girl who was trying to confess to him, everyone’s going to think you’re some kind of loser!”

“As if letting everyone think we’re dating is any better than that.”

“Excuse me!” Kise squawks, pouting defiantly. “I’ll have you know that you should be _honored_ to be my pretend boyfriend!”

Kasamatsu feels a headache starting to form in his temples.

“Is there any way we can somehow resolve this misunderstanding?”

Kise grimaces. “Well, the rumor’s already spread way too far out of control, so…”

As much as Kasamatsu doesn’t want to admit it, Kise’s right. Dammit. The one time he actually decides to make sense.

“So what? We just continue with this bullshit charade?”

“It doesn’t have to be for long!” Kise says. “It can just be for a couple of weeks, and then we’ll say we broke up, and then we can go back to just being senpai and kouhai.” A strange expression passes over Kise’s face as he says those words, but it’s gone so quickly that Kasamatsu can’t be sure if he was just imagining things.

Kasamatsu pauses, mulling it over. As much as he hates the idea, it really is the most sensible option giving the current situation. He sighs.

“Fine. Just two weeks. That’s all.”

Kise brightens. “Two weeks! You got it!”

He sticks out his hand. Kasamatsu stares at it for just a beat too long before he takes it, shaking Kise’s hand firmly.

“I don’t know why you’re so excited about this,” Kasamatsu says.

“Because I’ll never get a better chance to collect blackmail material on Kasamatsu-senpai!” Kise chirps, and Kasamatsu doesn’t hesitate before punching Kise in the arm. Hard.

“Ow!”

“Just because we’re pretending to date doesn’t mean I’ll stop being tough on you.”

“I figured,” Kise mutters, wincing.

Kasamatsu rolls his eyes.

“Let’s head back. They should be done with their warm-ups by now.”

“Okay,” Kise says, but he doesn’t make any attempt to move.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing, I just—” Kise suddenly looks weirdly nervous. Kasamatsu just stares at him, puzzled. “Um… we should talk some time to figure things out. Get our story straight.”

Kasamatsu narrows his eyes. “’Get our story straight?’” he repeats.

“Like—you know, when we started dating and how it happened and stuff like that.”

“Why do we need to—”

“Because if we end up saying different things people might get suspicious!”

“How about I just not answer any questions at all?” Kasamatsu says.

Kise pouts again. It is extremely not cute.

“ _Please?_ You’re definitely going to get pestered by a ton of people, so we should at least be prepared for that.”

Kasamatsu continues squinting at Kise. Finally, he shakes his hand and sighs.

“Fine. We can go get ramen after practice today or something.”

“Ramen?” Kise gasps in mock outrage. “We always get ramen. That’s so unromantic!”

Kasamatsu shrugs. “I never said I wasn’t a cheap date.”

Kise pouts again, but eventually he cracks a grin.

“Okay, fine. We’ll talk more at practice after school then.” Kise pats Kasamatsu on the shoulder. “I’m gonna head back first, okay, Kasamatsu-senpai?”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead. I’ll be back in a second.”

Kise beams warmly.

“Great!” His smile suddenly turns sharp and mischievous. “See you later,” a pause, “ _baby_.”

Kasamatsu leans down, pulls one of his shoes off, and flings it squarely at Kise’s head. Kise runs for his life, but he’s laughing as he goes.

Kasamatsu definitely has a full-blown migraine now. 


	2. Chapter 2

Things go very rapidly downhill from there.

Morning practice is absolutely terrible. Nobody is focused, not least because everyone keeps blatantly turning to stare every time Kasamatsu so much as breathes within a five-feet radius of Kise, and Kasamatsu can’t even do anything about it because that would necessitate actually acknowledging the situation, which Kasamatsu suspects would just make everything ten times worse. Some first-year eventually ends up getting hit in the face by a basketball, at which point Kasamatsu decides to just call the whole thing off and let everyone head back to class early.

Kasamatsu tries to sneak back to his classroom as quickly as possible, but clearly it’s not quick enough. He’s halfway down the hall before someone drapes an arm around his shoulders, and he doesn’t even need to turn to look to know that it’s Moriyama. The very person Kasamatsu was trying to avoid in the first place.

“Fuck,” Kasamatsu says.

“Good morning to you too,” Moriyama greets.

“Don’t,” Kasamatsu cautions.

“Don’t what?” Moriyama asks, the very picture of false innocence. Kasamatsu wants to punch him. He wants to punch him so bad.

“Just. Don’t.”

“Listen, I get that you’re probably embarrassed that you’ve been nursing a secret crush on our ace for the past year or so, but you’re dating now, so it’s all good, yeah? And you shouldn’t feel ashamed to talk to me about it! After all, I _am_ the expert on all things romantic, so—”

Kasamatsu doesn’t hesitate before slamming his palm directly into Moriyama’s face. While Moriyama’s still spluttering, Kasamatsu seizes the chance to escape.

He allows himself to feel satisfied about it for ten brief seconds of peace, but then he makes his way into the classroom block, and suddenly finds himself being fixed by at least fifty different pairs of eyes, all staring directly at him.

It is eerily silent.

Trying to act as casual as possible, Kasamatsu makes his way into his homeroom classroom, as if it’s just any other regular Thursday morning. Sure, his palms are sweaty, and he’s about ninety percent sure he’s flushed under the collar of his uniform, but that’s just because of the exertion of morning practice. Probably.

His classmates are still staring at him. It’s fine. He walks to his seat, pulls out the chair, takes a seat. When he has morning practice he typically ends up getting to class just before the bell rings, so he has more time than usual this morning. Which is a nice change of pace, but nothing particularly out of the ordinary. He gets his textbook from his bag, flips through today’s chapter, keeps his eyes decidedly trained on the words. He doesn’t look up. He will not look up.

It’s still far too quiet, quiet enough for the faint hum of whispers to be audible. Quiet enough for Kasamatsu make out snatches of words like _did you hear about Kasamatsu-kun,_ and _Kise Ryouta, huh,_ and _I was surprised at first but now that I think about it, it kinda makes sense, doesn’t it?_

Kasamatsu inhales sharply through his nose. He looks up at the clock on the wall. Three minutes till class starts. Three minutes. Just bear with it for three minutes.

Three minutes, Kasamatsu has discovered, is an absurdly long amount of time.

When he’s down to one minute and twenty-eight seconds his phone buzzes with a notification. Kasamatsu pulls it out of his pocket, wary that it’s going to be another text from Moriyama. He looks at the screen and realizes it’s Kise, which is maybe even worse. He unlocks it anyway.

> _remember we’re getting ramen today!_

It’s followed by a smiley face, and then a series of increasingly elaborate and offensively cheerful emojis. Kasamatsu stares at the text for just a beat too long.

_> Fine. But I’m not treating you._

Kasamatsu types out a quick reply, sends it, and then shoves his phone back into his pocket.

He looks back at the clock. One minute and fourteen seconds.

“Kise Ryouta’s dating _who_?!” somebody yells from outside the classroom. Kasamatsu inhales sharply, then exhales, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he does.

 _These are trying times, Kasamatsu Yukio_ , he thinks.

-

Classes drag by, torturously slow. At least it means he doesn’t have to talk to anyone, though; he’s content to just sit at his desk and let the drone of his teachers’ words wash over him. During lunch he scarfs down his bento at his desk, resolutely ignoring everyone else in the classroom until classes resume again.

But then the bell signaling the end of school rings, and Kasamatsu’s debating the merits of just booking it right now versus waiting for people to leave before sneaking out of school when he realizes the chattering of voices in the hallway is even louder than usual.

He barely has time to think about it before the classroom door is being cracked open and none other than Kise Ryouta himself is standing there, smiling peacefully like he isn’t perfectly aware that every single person in the room is staring at him right now.

“Senpai!” Kise calls, waving cheerfully.

Kasamatsu just stares at him, mouth open. He can’t seem to make his vocal chords work.

“Come on,” Kise continues, “we have a date, remember?”

Kasamatsu is going to kill him. Kasamatsu is going to set every single thing Kise loves on fire, and then he is going to stab Kise himself with his own two hands.

Two weeks, he reminds himself. Two weeks. Fourteen days. He can do it. It’s no big deal.

“Yeah,” he says. He shoves his books back into his bag, stands up, runs his hand through his hair. “Let’s go.”

-

He wonders if it’s a practiced skill, but Kise seems to possess the extraordinary ability of acting perfectly normal even while being stared at and talked about. Maybe it’s the whole model thing. All Kasamatsu knows is that Kise’s going on and on about some new drama series or whatever as they walk to the train station together, acting blissfully oblivious to the stares of their classmates.

Fortunately, the ramen place they’re headed to is relatively far away from school, and the closer they get to it, the fewer classmates they’re surrounded by. By the time their train pulls into the right station, they’re only the people left on the train wearing the Kaijou uniform. Kasamatsu finally feels like he can breathe a little easier.

“Hey,” Kise says suddenly. Kasamatsu looks up, startled. “Are you okay?”

Kise’s looking at him, concern etched plainly on his face. Kasamatsu looks down again.

“It’s fine. I’m just—not used to being the center of attention like that.”

Kise grins. “You’ll get used to it!” he chirps.

“I’d rather not,” Kasamatsu mutters.

Kise laughs, and then they fall silent, walking side-by-side. It’s no different from any other time they’ve come here together, after practice or when they go watch a basketball match. It’s comforting to know that even if everything’s gone to shit this much still doesn’t have to change. They can put up an act for the rest of the school, but like this, alone, Kasamatsu doesn’t have to pretend. And it’s nice, somehow.

They make it to the ramen shop in silence, but it’s a comfortable one. They get a seat at the counter, and the owner recognizes them, chats with them briefly about school before taking their orders (the usual—shoyu for Kasamatsu, miso for Kise).

“So,” Kise says. He knots his fingers together, in a way that Kasamatsu recognizes as a nervous tic. “About the, uh. Situation.”

“ _The_ _situation_ ,” Kasamatsu echoes, and right, there’s no escaping it. There goes all the good feelings from before.

“Shut up,” Kise snaps, flushing. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“Unfortunately, I do,” Kasamatsu replies drily.

“Well, it’s just—if anybody asks,” Kise says, “we should have something to say.”

“So just say we started dating a month ago or something.”

“And what if they ask for more details?”

“Then tell them to mind their own damn business.”

“That’s—”

Kise’s interrupted by their orders arriving, and Kasamatsu digs in eagerly. Partially to avoid this conversation, but also partially because he’s hungry.

“Fine,” Kise huffs as Kasamatsu stuffs ramen into his mouth. “We started dating a month ago, and I asked you out.”

“Wait,” Kasamatsu starts, looking up from his bowl. “How come _you_ get to be the one doing the asking out—”

“Because if I left it to you, you’d just never make a move!”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve never even dated anyone before, have you?”

“How is my dating history relevant to this conversation?”

“It’s totally relevant!”

“No, it’s not—”

“Yes, it is!”

“Okay, _fine_ , let’s just stick with that.”

Kise grins at Kasamatsu, looking far too smug. Kasamatsu steps on Kise’s foot under the table, and watches in satisfaction as that smirk gets wiped from Kise’s face immediately. At least they’re even now.

“I have no idea why I would even want to date you,” Kise mutters.

“I never asked you to,” Kasamatsu fires back.

“I know,” Kise says.

“What?”

“I mean,” Kise amends quickly, “If I’d known you’d be this ungrateful I wouldn’t have bothered with all this.”

“I am not _ungrateful_ —”

And so they continue bickering for the rest of the day. They end up not really talking about the whole fake dating thing, but it doesn’t really matter. After talking to Kise, even if it was mostly just pointless arguing about Kasamatsu’s ingratitude, Kasamatsu feels just a tiny bit better about the whole thing. It’s strange—Kasamatsu feels like he’s constantly flip-flopping between intense mortification whenever he’s reminded of the circumstances he’d found himself and a sense of comfort at the moments of normalcy that stand out nevertheless. It’s getting kind of exhausting, honestly, and it’s only been a day.

Kasamatsu likes spending time with Kise, he realizes. He just wishes it didn’t have to be under the guise of—well, _this_.

They pay for their meal and head back to the station. They stand at the platform, looking at each other.

“So,” Kasamatsu says. “I’m heading this way.”

“Right.” Kise’s wringing his hands together again. Why is he nervous? “I’ll see you at school tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah, there’s still practice, don’t forget.”

“I know, but um…” Kise looks away. “I was thinking we could have lunch together too.”

“Lunch?” Kasamatsu blinks. “Why?”

“Well, I was just thinking—if I was _really_ dating someone, I’d want to spend as much time as possible with them, you know?”

The tips of Kise’s ears are turning faintly red. Kasamatsu’s own face is starting to heat up.

“I…” Kasamatsu’s not quite sure what to say. He rubs the back of his neck, turning away too. “Sure. It’s just for two weeks anyway, right?”

“Yeah.” Kasamatsu decides to chance a look at Kise, and he’s looking back at Kasamatsu, smiling. “Just two weeks.”

Silence stretches out between the both of them, and it’s different from the usual comfortable silences Kasamatsu’s come to appreciate. It’s heavier, somehow, laced with a certain tension, and Kasamatsu has no idea where it came from.

“Kasamatsu-senpai—” Kise suddenly begins, but he’s interrupted by the rush of the train pulling into the station.

“Shit, I gotta go. Just text me about it, okay? Or we can talk about it tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Kise says, quiet. Kasamatsu claps him on the shoulder, brief, and then he’s turning around, heading into the train.

 _What the hell was that?_ The train doors slide close, and then he’s hurtling away from the station, away from where Kise must still be waiting.

“So much for feeling better,” Kasamatsu mutters to himself.

 _Just thirteen more days_ , he thinks. _Thirteen long, long days._


	3. Chapter 3

Kasamatsu’s already back home, lying on his bed and staring blankly at his ceiling, when it occurs to him that he hasn’t looked at his phone all day. He _really_ doesn’t want to look at it, but he suspects putting it off is only going to make it even more painful.

He forces himself to get up and extract his phone from his bag. There are a very startling number of message notifications, and ninety percent of them are from Moriyama.

Taking a deep breath, he unlocks his phone to take a look at the messages.

_> ok, first of all, rude_

_> second of all, i can’t believe u didn’t tell me???_

_> when did this happen_

_> when did you start dating_

_> how long has it been going on_

_> who confessed first_

_> it was probably kise though lbr_

_> have u guys kissed_

_> oh my god, youve totally kissed, haven’t you_

_> was it everything youve ever dreamed of?????_

_> also, i still cant believe you kept it from me for this long????_

_> you sneaky bastard_

_> why won’t u text me back_

_> text me back u asshole_

_> i bet u text kise back right away_

_> bros b4 pretty boy aces, man_

_> TEXT ME BACK_

It goes on in a similar vein for several more messages. Kasamatsu can physically feel his blood pressure rising as he reads.

Just as he’s debating the merits of replying Moriyama versus ignoring him for as long as possible, his phone buzzes with yet another text from Moriyama.

> _i know ur reading this u sick bastard just answer my texts already_

Kasamatsu feels a vein twitching in his forehead.

 _You sent me a total of twenty-six messages_ , he replies.

In response, his phone immediately lights up with a call from Moriyama. Fuck.

“What,” Kasamatsu snaps, picking up even in spite of himself.

“Tell me everything,” Moriyama says.

“You sound like an overexcited thirteen-year-old girl.”

“What, so I can’t be excited for my best friend finally landing the boy of his dreams?”

“Okay, first of all, we’re barely even friends, much less _best_ friends—”

“Harsh _and_ blatantly untrue—”

“Second, _‘boy of his dreams’?_ Are you kidding me right now?”

“Being romantic is the very essence of my soul, Kasamatsu! It’s what sustains me!”

“Fine. Die then.”

And then he hangs up the phone.

It takes two seconds for Moriyama to call back. Kasamatsu picks up because he hates himself.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop being annoying,” Moriyama says. “I just wanted to know! I can’t believe you hid it from me for—wait, how long has it been going on?”

“Uh.” Kasamatsu tries to remember what he and Kise had agreed on. “A month.”

“You’ve been hiding it from me for a _month_? Seriously? How could I’ve missed it for so long?”

 _Because there was nothing to miss_ , Kasamatsu thinks. “Maybe you’re just not observant as you think you are,” he says instead. He’s hedging. Shit. What if Moriyama isn’t convinced?

“Harsh,” Moriyama sighs. “But maybe it _is_ true, given that I didn’t notice you and Kise were dating for a full month.”

Kasamatsu holds his breath. Wait, is this working? Is he actually convincing Moriyama of this dumb hare-brained scheme?

“So anyway,” Moriyama continues. “Give me the details, man. How did it start? How is it going? Have you been on dates? Have you kissed? Have you ever touched his—”

Kasamatsu hangs up again. This time Moriyama doesn’t call back.

-

The next day at school is the same: more staring, more whispering. Kasamatsu wonders if this is what Kise has to deal with all the time, what with both the model thing _and_ the whole Generation of Miracles thing. He thinks about Kise ignoring the crowds of fangirls clustered at the bleachers every time they have practice. He’d always assumed it was pure callousness on Kise’s part, but Kasamatsu’s beginning to recognize it as a skill, honed through years of practice. Grudgingly, he finds himself coming to respect Kise, just a little. God knows Kasamatsu doesn’t have the same ability. Not even close.

Especially not when lunchtime rolls around and, because Kasamatsu forgot what Kise had told him the day before, he nearly jumps right out of his seat when his classroom door slams open and Kise stands there, lunchbox in hand, beaming from ear-to-ear, and calls cheerfully, “Senpai!”

It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Or the way Kasamatsu sputters from an emotion that falls somewhere in the vague region between mortification, humiliation, and a pure, simple craving for death.

Stupidly, the only thing Kasamatsu can think is _I have never been more thankful in my life that Moriyama isn’t in my class._

Blissfully ignoring the fact that every single pair of eyes in the room is fixed firmly on him, Kise makes his way through the classroom, grabs the empty seat in front of Kasamatsu’s desk, turns it around, and perches himself right across from Kasamatsu. Smiling innocently the whole goddamn time.

“I wonder what my mom made for lunch today,” Kise says. He hums tunelessly to himself as he pries the lid off his lunchbox, and his eyes light up when he sees what’s inside. “Tamagoyaki! Nice!”

He’s just taken a bite when he notices that Kasamatsu has barely moved (or breathed, really) since Kise first walked in.

“What’s wrong, senpai? Are you feeling okay?”

Kasamatsu opens his mouth, then shuts it again. It’s all he can do not to launch himself across his desk, grab Kise by the shoulders, and scream in his face, “What’s wrong? _What’s wrong?_ What’s wrong is that you’re sitting right here, acting like you don’t know that every single one of my classmates is staring at us like we’ve both just grown an extra head. What’s _wrong_ is that you really didn’t have to do this, why the fuck didn’t you just leave me to the sharks and tell the entire school that I’m a hopeless loser who can’t even speak to a girl without shoving my entire foot into my mouth, and then tell every other high school in Japan too, while you’re at it? Why the fuck are you doing this? _Why haven’t I told you to fuck off back to the first-year classrooms yet?_ ”

What Kasamatsu says instead is, “You have something on your face.”

And then he leans over and brushes his thumb over the corner of Kise’s mouth. Kise freezes immediately, staring at Kasamatsu with his eyes almost comically wide. Kasamatsu stares back, and thinks, _oh, fuck_.

He thinks he hears a muffled shriek coming from a corner of the classroom. He ignores it. All he can think about as he sits back down is the way his heart is suddenly hammering dangerously in his chest, thudding out a rapid rhythm against his ribcage that Kasamatsu usually only associates with a particularly excruciating basketball match.

He takes a bite out of his rice ball and thinks, _this is not normal._

He looks up, catches Kise’s eye, and then immediately looks back down again.

To Kise’s credit, he seems to recover from Kasamatsu’s _whatever the hell that was_ quickly, filling the silence with his usual idle prattle. Kasamatsu responds by grunting in acknowledgment at the right places, but that isn’t too different from how he usually acts around Kise anyway, so it’s fine. There’s nothing strange about this, he thinks, except for just how _surreal_ this whole situation feels right now.

Gradually, the classroom returns to its usual lunchtime chatter, if a little more subdued than usual. Kasamatsu half expects one of Kise’s fans or even _Moriyama_ to pop their heads through the door and give him an escape, but nobody approaches them. It’s just the two of them, eating lunch in Kasamatsu’s classroom like they always do this. Except they never do this, which is probably why Kasamatsu’s suddenly acting all strange.

That’s it. That has to be it. Or at least, Kasamatsu doesn’t know what he’d do with himself if that’s not it. If there’s something else. But there isn’t. There can’t possibly be.

When the bell signaling the end of lunch rings, Kise stands up, gathers his things, and does a little half-wave to Kasamatsu.

“I’ll see you at practice!” he chirps, and then turns around to leave in the same casual manner, ignoring the trail of eyes that follows him as he goes.

Right. Practice. That’s a thing. That Kasamatsu has to do. Because he’s the captain of the basketball team. Which Kise is on. Which is how he got into this stupid mess in the first place.

The only thing that stops him from slamming his face into his desk is his teacher walking into the classroom right at that instant. At least he has a few blissful hours of peace before he has to head into the lion’s den.

-

Except practice doesn’t turn out to be as bad as Kasamatsu expected. At least, it’s significantly better than that terrible morning practice that he really doesn’t want to bring up ever again. Everyone’s focused for the most part. If they’re staring, they’re doing it when Kasamatsu isn’t looking, which he supposes is still better than the outright _ogling_ from yesterday.

He finds his gaze wandering over to Kise a few times. They make eye contact once, and Kasamatsu remembers the embarrassing fiasco from lunch, then looks away again immediately.

It’s not… weird or anything. Kasamatsu’s just trying to make sure Kise’s focus isn’t slipping because of the whole mess either.

He tries to tell himself he’s just being a good captain, but if he’s being totally honest with himself, his heart isn’t quite into it.

-

They’re done with practice for the day, second and third-years getting ready to head home while the first-years get everything packed away. Normally, Kasamatsu would be heading home too, barking out a reminder to the first-year on duty to give the storage rooms a once-over before he leaves.

Today, he finds himself lingering.

He sits outside the basketball court, toying with the bottle of Pocari Sweat he’d just bought from a vending machine. It’s cold; it feels nice against his skin. He fiddles with it idly, nodding in acknowledgment at the other third-years who are leaving. Moriyama snickers at him, and Kasamatsu gives him the finger in response, but other than that, nothing really happens. It’s as if the team’s already gotten used to the idea of Kise and Kasamatsu dating, and it’s frankly a little distressing how quickly they’d gotten over the initial shock. Even _Kasamatsu’s_ not over the initial shock.

It takes a while, but Kise emerges eventually, back in his regular Kaijou uniform. He blinks in surprise when he sees Kasamatsu sitting there.

“Senpai?”

“Thought I’d walk you home,” Kasamatsu says, trying for nonchalant. He’s not sure if he really succeeds, but fortunately he manages to distract Kise by standing up and tossing the bottle at him. Kise’s startled, but he manages to catch it anyway. Stupid basketball prodigy reflexes.

“Is this… for me?” Kise asks cautiously.

“If you don’t want it I’ll have it.”

“Oh,” Kise says. He looks at the bottle in his hand as if he’s expecting it to reveal its true colors as a pipe bomb any second now. “Thank you, senpai.”

He unscrews the cap, lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a long gulp. Kasamatsu watches the way Kise’s throat works as he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. He looks away again quickly.

“Come on,” Kasamatsu says gruffly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Let’s go.”

And so they walk. Kise lives in the opposite direction of Kasamatsu, but he finds he doesn’t quite mind. It’s nice out today, probably one of the last few days of relative warmth before winter sets in for real. Soon the scarves and gloves and sweaters layered underneath the school blazer are going to appear. Then it’ll be the Winter Cup, and then Kasamatsu’s going to step down from the team. And then he’s going to graduate. And then what?

“Kasamatsu-senpai?”

Kise’s voice breaks through Kasamatsu’s reverie. He blinks, shaking himself, and when he turns to look, Kise’s gazing back at him curiously.

“Sorry,” Kasamatsu says. “I was just thinking.”

“About the Winter Cup?”

Kasamatsu just stares at Kise, surprised, which is answer enough. Kise laughs, softly.

“You always get this wrinkle between your brows when you’re thinking about something related to the team,” he explains. “Right here,” he adds, pointing at the space between his own eyebrows, which is blissfully wrinkle-free.

“Yeah, well,” Kasamatsu says. “Someone’s gotta do all the worrying on behalf of the team.”

Kise hums, and then they both fall silent. They keep walking.

 _Why are you doing this, Yukio?_ he thinks to himself. _Really._

“Any plans for the weekend?” Kise asks, breaking the silence. Kasamatsu shrugs.

“Homework, mostly,” he says. “I have to babysit my brothers too, since my parents are gonna be out of town.”

“Brothers?”

“Yeah.” Kasamatsu rubs the back of his neck. “Two of them. One's in junior high, the other's in elementary school.”

Kise smiles. “I can see that. You’re totally the overprotective big brother type, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely not. They’re nightmares,” Kasamatsu says, just a little too harshly to really mean it. Kise laughs.

“I have two sisters. Except they’re both older than me. I guess we’re kind of opposites, in a way.”

Kasamatsu’s surprised to learn that, but then again, it’s not really surprising at all, now that he thinks about it.

“I can see that too,” he says. “You being the bratty youngest child, I mean.”

“Hey! I’m not bratty,” Kise sniffs, the picture of perfect sincerity. “My parents just like me better because I’m cuter.”

Kasamatsu gives Kise an incredulous look. It doesn’t take long for Kise’s serious façade to crumble, and then he starts giggling. Kasamatsu rolls his eyes and looks away, but he’s smiling.

They keep on walking. Kise starts pointing out landmarks, bus-stops and convenience stores and houses they pass by on the way. It’s nice, somehow, to learn these things about Kise. Kasamatsu’s never been to this part of town before, and he likes hearing Kise talk about his childhood. Kise talks a lot, in general, but he’s never really talked about his life before Teikou. And even when he does talk about Teikou, it’s usually about individual people. _That time I tried playing one-on-one with Kurokocchi_ , or _the day I accidentally broke Midorimacchi’s lucky item and he wouldn’t speak to me for an entire month._

Kasamatsu wonders what kind of team Teikou was like.

“Oh,” Kise says. “We’re here.”

They pause outside a modest-looking home, so similar to the other houses along the street that Kasamatsu would have definitely missed it if he were coming here on his own. It’s strange to think that someone like Kise lives here, in this humble two-story home with a Toyota parked out front. It’s so ordinary and boring, even though absolutely nothing about Kise is. Kise, after all, has always burned so much brighter than everyone else around him.

“I should go,” Kise continues. “Thanks for walking me.”

 _If we were really dating_ , Kasamatsu thinks, _I’d kiss you right now._

But they’re not. It’s just one big ruse, a _lie_ , so Kasamatsu just shrugs and says, “It’s no big deal.”

“See you on Monday, then,” Kise returns. He gives Kasamatsu one last smile, turns, and then ducks into his front door.

Kasamatsu waits for the door to swing shut behind Kise before he leaves.


	4. Chapter 4

True to word, Kasamatsu spends his Saturday mostly alternating between trying to corral his siblings into some form of civilized behavior and working on his homework. He’d let it pile up over the past few days given the… circumstances, and he’s starting to regret it now.

He shuts his brothers up in the living room, puts on a Godzilla movie, and buys them ice cream, which gives him a good two hours of complete peace. He’d feel guiltier about it, if he wasn’t so desperate for some time alone to actually sit down and do his homework. Graduation weighs heavily on his mind. He can’t afford to let his grades slip, not with exams on the horizon and most of his time still dedicated to the basketball and then the whole affair with Kise—

Kasamatsu promptly derails that train of thought, and gets to work.

Except he’s trying to write an essay in English, which is his worst subject by a far, far margin, and it’s making him want to smash his head against his desk just to give himself an excuse not to finish it.

Kise’s best subject is English, he recalls dimly. Maybe if he texted him—

In the living room, one of his brothers laughs loudly. Kasamatsu realizes he’s already been reaching out towards his phone. He retracts his hand quickly, almost as if he’s just been burned, lays it flat against his desk instead.

He really, really needs to get a grip.

Something’s shifted, Kasamatsu knows, but he can’t quite put his finger on it.

It probably has something to do Friday. He thinks of his fingers brushing against Kise’s skin, barely a centimeter away from his lips. He thinks of the evening sun, slowly starting to inch its way below the horizon as they walk side by side with an easy camaraderie. He thinks of the two of them, standing right outside Kise’s house, the way Kise’s eyes had flickered to Kasamatsu’s mouth, once, brief, almost as if—

No. No, no, no, no, no. This isn’t real, and they’re breaking up in a week. They’re fake breaking up from this fake relationship, and then Kasamatsu can go back to his normal life before Kise Ryouta marched in and decided to fuck everything up for him.

Kasamatsu looks back down at his desk, proceeds to drown himself in essays and problem sets and lab reports, and very pointedly does not think about Kise Ryouta for the rest of the day.

-

On Sunday, he wakes up to his phone ringing.

He blindly reaches for it without even bothering to keep his eyes open, scrabbling at his desk and quite possibly sending other miscellaneous items toppling to the floor before he finally picks it up.

“’llo?” he growls, voice still thick with sleep.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” Kise says, and Kasamatsu’s eyes snap open so quickly he’s surprised he doesn’t give himself whiplash.

“Uh,” he says. His brain never functions in the mornings. His gaze lands on the wall clock on the opposite side of the room. It’s 10am. Which is not an unreasonable time of the day to call someone, but it’s _Sunday_. “No,” he decides on at last. “What is it?”

“Do you wanna play a game of one-on-one with me?”

Kasamatsu is silent for a very long time. Long enough that he can almost viscerally feel Kise getting increasingly uncomfortable on the other end of the line.

“Um, senpa—”

“Did you just call me at ten in the morning on a Sunday to ask me to play basketball with you?” Kasamatsu demands.

“So you _were_ asleep!” Kise fires back triumphantly. Kasamatsu glares up at the ceiling.

“It’s Sunday,” he mutters, squaring his jaw mulishly. “Also, couldn’t you have asked someone else?”

“Well, I asked Kurokocchi, and he said no, and then I asked Midorimacchi, and he said that his horoscope said that he should avoid anything mentally draining for today like having to speak to me, and then—”

“Okay, fine, I get the picture.” Kasamatsu sits up in bed, runs his free hand through his hair. “I don't mind, but I still have to babysit my brothers.”

“You can take them along!” Kise exclaims, and Kasamatsu can practically picture the grin that’s probably plastered across Kise’s face right now. Stupid fucking morning person. “I’ll teach them a few of my moves! Please? It’ll be fun!”

Kasamatsu pauses for a moment. He pictures Kise showing off some fancy drives, his brothers clambering towards him, pleading with Kise to teach them how to do it. He thinks about Kise kneeling down so that he’s eye-level with them, smiling brightly.

“Alright,” Kasamatsu says. “I’m sure they’ll love it.”

-

There’s an outdoors basketball court near Kasamatsu’s home. Kise agrees to meet him there, even though it’s a pretty substantial walk for him. _Then again,_ Kasamatsu thinks, _he did walk Kise home from school and then back to his own home the other day_ , and then remembers the glow of Kise’s hair under the evening sunlight, and then promptly quashes that train of thought.

His brothers’ faces light up when Kasamatsu tells them about it, which is nice, but also kind of worrying, because Kasamatsu doesn’t remember ever telling his family about Kise. He probably has, at some point. He talks about all the permanent team members, Moriyama and Kobori and Hayakawa. And Kise _did_ cause quite a stir when he first entered Kaijou, after all, definitely a point of conversation. There’s nothing particularly strange about it, except Kasamatsu’s suddenly starting to wonder what exactly he’s told his family about Kise. He doesn’t know why it makes him nervous.

And then they get to the court, and his youngest brother runs over to Kise, points at him, and says, clearly and unmistakably, “You’re the annoying pretty boy my big brother keeps talking about!” and Kasamatsu knows immediately that he really should have known better.

Kise looks at Kasamatsu, his eyes gleaming. He looks like he’s trying to maintain a straight face and is failing very miserably. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks, the corners of his lips twitching.

Kasamatsu wants to say something that contains a lot more swear words than would be appropriate in front of his two younger brothers, so he flings his basketball at Kise in lieu of having to come up with a dignified response. Kise catches it easily, grinning.

“So how about that one-on-one?” Kise asks, spinning the basketball on one finger absently.

“I didn’t just come here to watch you guys play,” the older of Kasamatsu’s two brothers mutters. Kasamatsu just rolls his eyes at him; he’s going through his angsty thirteen-year-old teenager phase, which Kasamatsu understands but doesn’t particularly want to deal with.

“Then how about I teach you some tricks?” Kise says. He’s still spinning the ball on his finger, and Kasamatsu knows Kise knows that both of his brothers have been staring at it for the past twenty seconds. “Impress some of the girls at school.”

Kasamatsu’s youngest brother proclaims loudly that girls are gross, and his second brother remains quiet but from the look of in his eye it’s unmistakable that his interest is piqued. Kise gives him a look that says _is this okay?_ and Kasamatsu gives Kise a look that he hopes communicates _please take these assholes off my hands,_ and then they’re off, Kasamatsu’s brothers chasing Kise down the length of the court while Kasamatsu finds a bench to sit down on.

For a long time, he just watches. Kasamatsu’s only eighteen but he feels like he’s getting old, looking at his brothers’ carefree grins, the way they’re practically vibrating with energy. Kasamatsu’s been tired recently, having to juggle school and family and basketball. Mostly basketball. He thinks about the Winter Cup again, and then remembers what Kise told him the other day, when they were walking home together. _You always get this wrinkle between your brows when you’re thinking about something related to the team,_ he’d said. Absently, Kasamatsu touches the space between his eyebrows with his fingers, makes himself relax.

It _is_ nice, to just sit here and watch his brothers have fun with Kise. Kise’s a better teacher than Kasamatsu expected—he’s exhibiting an uncharacteristic patience, talking Kasamatsu’s brothers through the technique of performing an effective drive. Kasamatsu’s second brother is in his first year of junior high, the same age that Kise would’ve been when he first joined Teikou. He thinks about his brother facing off against the Generation of Miracles during a match, and almost laughs at how ludicrous the notion is. Those kids never even stood a chance.

He doesn't realize how much time has passed under Kise’s jogging over to him, basketball wedged under his arm. He’s flushed from the exercise, cheeks lightly tinged with pink. Kasamatsu’s brothers follow behind, wrapped up in some inane argument and who’s better at basketball.

“I managed to persuade them to let us play a match,” Kise says, smiling. “How about it? Or are you just going to sit there and stare into space like an old man?”

“Old man says you,” Kasamatsu mutters, getting up from his bench. Kise’s smile widens, turns into a full-blown grin.

“Let’s go then,” he says.

They play a match, and it’s exhausting. Kise doesn’t hold back; he clearly has a lot of pent-up energy, probably cooped up at home for the entirety of Saturday. Kasamatsu does too, he realizes belatedly. Homework is important, but it’s nothing like _this_ , the feeling of pure exhilaration that swoops through his gut when he runs, the roughness of a basketball braced firmly in his hands as he readies himself for a three-point throw. Kasamatsu’s no match for Kise, he knows, but it’s still satisfying to play against him. Kise’s grinning, his smile sharp and determined, and for a moment Kasamatsu forgets about the Interhighs and the Winter Cup and the tang of loss, bitter and heavy in his mouth after last year’s game. Instead it’s just this: him and Kise and a basketball between them. No words, no pressure.

Kise wins, of course, but it’s a good match. Kasamatsu managed to score some pretty good throws, and he slaps Kise across the back afterwards, grins in response to Kise’s breezy laughter.

Kise leaves after that, waving his goodbyes and promising Kasamatsu’s brothers that he’ll teach them more advanced moves the next time. Kasamatsu doesn’t think too much about it, not until they’re walking back home and his youngest brother turns to him and says, “I want to play basketball with Kise again.”

It’s only then that Kasamatsu realizes what Kise had said. _Next time._ Will there be a next time? Surely Kise has better players to challenge the next time he feels like a spontaneous one-on-one match. He has the entirety of the Generation of Miracles at his disposal, after all. And then Kasamatsu remembers the whole _fake dating_ thing, and wonders if this was part of it too. But even so, they’re breaking up in less than two weeks. There isn’t much point in pursuing that train of thought.

But his brother’s looking up at him at wide eyes, so Kasamatsu just sighs, ruffles his hair and says, “Sure. I’ll ask him when I see him at practice.”

Kasamatsu’s brother nods, satisfied at the answer. Kasamatsu thinks that’s the end of that, but then his brother pipes up again and asks, “Do you like Kise?”

Kasamatsu freezes, staring down at his brother. His brother just looks back up at him, his head tilted slightly to the side. He looks at his other brother, but he’s staring down at his phone, completely absorbed in some text message conversation.

He turns back to his youngest brother and asks, ignoring the way his heart is suddenly thumping in his chest, “What makes you ask that?”

His brother blinks. “When Kise was teaching us how to do a drive I asked him why he was helping us out, and he said that it’s because he likes you a lot and wanted to impress you.”

Kasamatsu continues staring. It’s extremely probable that Kise was just messing with his brothers, but there’s also the very, very small chance that maybe, just maybe—

“We’re good friends,” Kasamatsu says at last. His brother seems to accept that answer, nodding to himself.

He doesn't let himself think about it until later that night, when his parents are back from their weekend trip and Kasamatsu’s tucked into bed, staring up at his ceiling in a darkened room. When he finally manages to fall asleep, he dreams of golden hair and a soft smile, and wakes up feeling like he’s missed something extremely important, somehow.


	5. Chapter 5

Kasamatsu starts to fall into a routine.

Morning practice three times a week. Kise turning up at his classroom door during lunchtime without fail, day after day. Regular practice four times a week. Walking Kise back home after practice.

Truth be told, Kasamatsu isn’t quite sure why he’s doing it. If he wanted to convince the team that he and Kise were the perfect couple he could’ve just… pretended to walk him home. Waited for him after practice, until everyone else was gone, and then just gone their separate ways. There is absolutely no reason why he’s doing this: sitting outside the basketball court, bottled drink in his hand, cool against his palms. Even Moriyama’s stopped trying to tease Kasamatsu about it, which Kasamatsu knows is a very, very bad sign. When _Moriyama Yoshitaka’s_ gotten so used to it that he’s ceased to grasp every opportunity available to make Kasamatsu’s life hell, that’s how he knows it’s gone way too far.

But even so, Kasamatsu’s still here anyway.

He’s so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice that Kise’s done with clean-up duty until he’s right in front of Kasamatsu. He looks up, startled, and Kise’s standing right there, smiling down at him, hands shoved into his pockets.

“You know,” Kise says, “when people say they’re buying their boyfriends a drink, they’re usually not talking about Pocari Sweat from a vending machine at school.”

And this—this is dicey, isn't it? The word _boyfriend_ , even though there isn’t anyone else around to hear it. It’s just the two of them, talking. This isn’t normal. Kasamatsu knows it’s not normal, and yet he’s let himself get used to it like the idiot he really is.

“Like I told you before,” Kasamatsu returns, standing up, “I never said I wasn’t a cheap date.”

He hands the bottle to Kise, and Kise takes it in spite of his earlier complaints. And that’s a habit, too, this tiny little gift. Kasamatsu doesn't know how that happened either.

“Well,” Kise says, still smiling faintly. “Shall we go?”

And so they walk, side-by-side. Kise is uncharacteristically quiet today, but Kasamatsu doesn’t particularly mind. It’s nice like this too, just walking together in silence. The route to Kise’s house is starting to become familiar to Kasamatsu, and that’s become part of the routine as well. It’s been a whole week now, Kasamatsu realizes. They’re halfway through this whole thing. Kasamatsu remembers how panicked he was at the beginning, but now it’s starting to feel like second nature, dating Kise Ryouta.

It’s easy. It’s so incredibly easy.                                                                 

“So,” Kise suddenly says, breaking the silence, “we have a week left.”

“Huh? Oh, right.” Kasamatsu turns to look at Kise, but Kise’s looking straight ahead.

“I was thinking,” Kise says, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Kasamatsu stares, and then looks away, “we should start talking about how we’re going to… you know. End this.”

“Oh.” Kasamatsu doesn’t know what to say to that.  He sucks in a breath. Lets it out. “We could… uh… pretend to have a fight?”

Kise shakes his head. “We can’t do anything that’ll have an impact on the team. I don’t want to make things awkward for them.”

“Right.” Kasamatsu’s surprised by how much thought Kise’s put into this. He wonders how long Kise’s been thinking about their breakup; he doesn’t know why the thought of it annoys him far more than it should. “So what are you suggesting, then?”

Kise doesn’t respond immediately. Silence stretches out between them, and it’s weighted, somehow. Finally, he shrugs. “There doesn’t have to be any particular reason. Sometimes things just don’t work out, you know?”

Kasamatsu wants to say that he does _not_ , in fact, know, but he figures he should defer to Kise for once on matters such as these. After all, Kasamatsu doesn’t know a thing about dating. He’s never dated _anyone_ , because between school and basketball and other miscellaneous obligations he’s never found the time for it, nor has he ever found anyone he’d ever _wanted_ to date. He was just never interested, but now here he is, and he realizes it’s not half bad, really. It’s ridiculously easy, dating someone. Or maybe just dating Kise Ryouta.

But that’s beside the point.

“All right,” Kasamatsu says. “That sounds reasonable.”

There’s another long pause, long enough that Kasamatsu wonders if Kise didn’t hear him. He turns to look, and Kise’s chewing on his lower lip absently again, deep in thought.

“Kise?”

“I was just thinking…” Another pause. “You know. We should stop spending so much time together. If that’s what we’re going for.”

And Kasamatsu suddenly feels his chest seizing up, his breath catching in his throat. When he speaks again his voice is strangely small.

“Oh,” he says. “Right. Okay.”

Before Kasamatsu realizes it, they’ve reached Kise’s home. They stand in front of the gates, lingering. Kasamatsu wonders if this is it—if this is the last time he’s ever going to be here. He thinks about the winding path and the bus stops and the convenience store and row of little suburban houses he’s grown used to. He looks at the Toyota parked out front and the name _Kise_ on the sign affixed right outside the gates. And then he turns to look at Kise himself.

Kise’s eyes flicker to his mouth, again, just like that first time they’d walked together like this, and for the briefest moment Kasamatsu wonders, again, if maybe, just maybe—

Then the front door bangs open, and Kasamatsu springs back immediately, eyes wide, heart suddenly beating a mile a minute. It suddenly occurs to him just how close he’d been standing to Kise, just then.

“Ryouta!” An unfamiliar voice calls from the door, and Kasamatsu turns to see a frankly gorgeous blond woman standing there, hands on her hips, a wicked smile on her face. “You didn’t say you were bringing your boyfriend home with you!”

Kasamatsu turns back to Kise, who is—blushing, his entire face beet red, from the tips of his ears right down to his neck.

“I… he… that’s not… we’re not…” Kasamatsu just stares at Kise, watching him fumble with his words as his face just gets redder and redder. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Kise this flustered before. It’s actually kind of fascinating.

The blond woman shuts the door behind her, walks down the pathway towards the both of them, lifts a perfectly manicured hand, and then ruffles Kise’s hair roughly.

“It’s adorable seeing you blush like that,” she coos.

“Please stop talking,” Kise says miserably.

Kasamatsu can’t help it—he laughs. But that’s clearly a mistake, because the moment he does the woman shifts her attention from Kise to him, fixing Kasamatsu with a steely gaze.

And there he goes. Sweaty palms. Hoarse throat. Evidently, Kasamatsu’s inability to speak to girls extends far beyond the confines of Kaijou.

“So you’re the kid who keeps giving my baby brother heart palpitations, huh?” she asks, peering at Kasamatsu’s face.

“I do _not_ —” Kise interjects. The woman ignores him.

“I’m Ryouta’s oldest sister! Call me Kiyomi,” she tells him cheerfully, ignoring Kise as he starts up another round of spluttering. “I’m afraid I can’t stay to chat, but why don’t you come over for dinner tomorrow night? You’re not busy, are you?”

“Uh,” Kasamatsu says.

“Kasamatsu-senpai can’t make it!” Kise pipes up. “He has… uh… homework!”

“On a Friday night?” Kiyomi asks. Kise opens his mouth, and then shuts it again.

“Uh,” Kasamatsu says again.

“It’s settled then!” Kiyomi says cheerfully. She ruffles Kise’s hair again for good measure, then turns to Kasamatsu and grins. It is eerily similar to Kise’s own smile. Kasamatsu gulps. “We’ll see you tomorrow then! Make sure you tell mom about it, okay, Ryouta?”

“I’m not going to tell mom about something _you_ decided on your own—” Kise begins, but Kiyomi’s already breezing past the both of them, clacking down the sidewalk in her heels. Kasamatsu turns to watch her go, and when he turns back to look at Kise, he has his face buried in his hands.

“I hate my sister,” Kise mumbles, although his words are slightly muffled by his hands. Kasamatsu has no idea how to respond. Finally, Kise drags his hands down a couple of inches so that he can look at Kasamatsu over his fingers, and although only half his face is visible, it’s obvious that he’s still completely red-faced.

“You don’t have to, you know,” Kise continues. “To come over, I mean. Kiyomi just has… uh, let’s just call it a forceful personality.”

“I can see that.” Kasamatsu rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure? Won’t she be mad at you if I don’t—”

“Of course she’ll be mad,” Kise says glumly. “She’s going to complain about it to me for the next three months straight.” He pitches his voice up in an imitation of his sister’s voice as he continues, “ _Ryou-chan! How dare you deprive me of the opportunity to make fun of you_ and _your poor defenseless senpai! You deserve to have me tease you mercilessly for the rest of your life about this!_ ”

Kasamatsu smiles at that, even despite the situation he’s found himself in.

“She calls you _Ryou-chan_?” he asks. Kise makes a noise that’s somewhere in between frustration and embarrassment.

“Please don’t speak of this ever again,” Kise says. Kasamatsu grins, and then his smile falters. He turns away, clears his throat.

“I… well, I _am_ free,” Kasamatsu begins, cautiously. He resolutely does _not_ look at Kise.

“Are you sure?” Kise asks. “I mean… it’s not like we’re actually dating, so—”

“I’m sure,” Kasamatsu interrupts, more forcefully than he intends. “It’s just one dinner, right? What’s the worst that could happen?”

When Kasamatsu turns back to look, Kise is blinking at him, finally dropping his hands. His face is turning from bright red to a softer shade of pink. Kasamatsu does not stare. He does not.

“If… if you’re sure,” Kise says.

“I’m sure,” Kasamatsu says again. He claps Kise on the shoulder, for want of anything better to say. “I’ll see you at lunch—” He catches himself, because they’re not doing that anymore, either. He’s going to go back to eating alone, or with the other third-years on the basketball team. He shakes his head to clear the thought from his mind. “I mean, at practice.”

“Yeah,” Kise says. “Yeah. See you.”

Kasamatsu turns to go, and doesn’t look back.


	6. Chapter 6

Kise doesn’t turn up for lunch.

They’ve agreed on this, so it’s fine. Kasamatsu eats at his desk, alone, and pointedly ignores the stares and whispers of his classmates. It would be funny, really—that he can’t escape the pointed looks when Kise’s here, but when Kise’s finally absent, it just makes the speculation even more intense—if it didn’t make Kasamatsu’s stomach clench uncomfortably. He stabs a piece of fish with his chopsticks, and tries to ignore the churn of irritation in his gut. It’s a lot harder to ignore than the stares and the whispers; at least he’s gotten used to that. He doesn’t want to get used to feeling irritated by Kise Ryouta’s absence.

At least basketball practice after school is normal. He treats Kise as usual, has always treated him exactly the same on the court, even when this whole fiasco first started. Kise, to his credit, doesn’t let his performance waver either. This is the one place in Kasamatsu’s life that has always remained exactly the same, and he’s thankful for that, at least.

At the start of practice he catches some of his teammates shooting him odd looks; he wonders if the news of Kise’s absence at lunch has been spreading, then wonders why that would be newsworthy at all. It’s only then that it occurs to him just how closely everyone seems to be following their pretend relationship. And apparently, they’ve been doing such a good job with pretending to be a happy couple that one missing lunchtime has already gotten people talking.

This is going to be a problem, Kasamatsu thinks.

After practice, Kasamatsu goes to his usual vending machine to buy his usual sports drink for Kise, then remembers he isn’t supposed to walk Kise home anymore, and then remembers that that plan has been nullified given that he’s supposed to have dinner at Kise’s home today. With Kise’s family. While pretending to be Kise’s boyfriend.

“Shit,” he says, out loud. Thankfully, there’s nobody around to hear him, only the vending machine to which Kasamatsu has given a truly excessive amount of money over the past week.

Kasamatsu buys a drink— a can of iced coffee for himself, this time. He’s pretty sure he’ll need it.

Kise finds him at his usual place, sitting outside the basketball court and chugging that can of coffee like it’s the last thing tethering him to the remaining vestiges of his sanity. Which, truthfully, it is.

“I didn’t know you were a caffeine addict,” Kise says, looking like he can’t decide if he should be amused or worried.

“I’m not,” Kasamatsu returns. “Well, not unless the situation calls for it.”

Kise laughs, but there’s a certain note of hysteria to it. He doesn’t quite meet Kasamatsu’s eyes when he says, “It’s just dinner with my family. It’ll be fine.”

Somehow, Kasamatsu isn’t too convinced.

“Look,” Kise continues, “you already know what my sister’s like so… I mean. At least you’re prepared for the worst.”

“I’m prepared for your sister, at least.”

“They’re the same thing,” Kise mutters darkly.

Kasamatsu sighs, gets up from where he’s sitting, and slaps Kise across the back. “Chin up,” he says. “It’s just one dinner. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Right,” Kise says, but his voice is oddly pinched. “Let’s go, then.”

-

The first thing Kasamatsu realizes upon stepping into Kise’s home is that he has made a terrible, terrible mistake.

Actually, that’s not entirely accurate—he realized this a while ago. The moment he’d met Kise’s sister in front of their house, in fact. It’s just that it only hits him just how _huge_ of a mistake he’s made when he walks through Kise’s front door and immediately finds himself face-to-face with not one, but two beautiful women that he absolutely, definitely cannot speak to.

Distantly, he remembers Kise telling him that he has not one, but _two_ older sisters, and is promptly seized by the urge to punch himself in the face.

“Ryou-chan!” Kiyomi calls, crossing the room towards them. “And the dashing Kasamatsu-senpai himself, in the flesh!”

Kasamatsu’s face goes bright red. Kiyomi laughs, loud and full-bodied. Kise’s other sister rolls her eyes and mouths _I’m sorry_ to him from the sofa. Kasamatsu decides immediately that she’s his favorite sibling of the three.

“Um,” Kise says, stepping neatly in between his oldest sister and Kasamatsu. “Senpai, you’ve met Kiyomi…”

“A pleasure, once again,” Kiyomi says, an unmistakable gleam in her eye.

“And over there on the couch is Chiyoko, my second sister,” Kise finishes, glaring at Kiyomi. Chiyoko waves airily before turning back to the television.

“Nice to meet you,” Kasamatsu croaks, before his voice finally dies out on him.

“Now, now, there’s no need to be shy,” Kiyomi coos. Kasamatsu has no idea what color his face is right now; all he knows is that his face feels hot enough to cook an entire fried egg on it right now. Kise clears his throat loudly, but Kiyomi ignores him, stepping in front of him to peer directly at Kasamatsu’s face.

“It’s nice to finally meet you properly!” she says. “Our little Ryou-chan talks about you so much, we were all so excited to meet the famous Kasamatsu-senpai in the flesh!”

“Uh,” Kasamatsu says.

“Please don’t—” Kise says.

“Tell him!” Kiyomi interrupts, turning to Chiyoko expectantly. Chiyoko looks up, holding Kasamatsu’s gaze, her eyes gleaming in the exact same way as Kiyomi’s earlier. Kasamatsu is starting to understand their sibling dynamic—Kiyomi barrels through things headfirst, but he gets the feeling Chiyoko’s the really deadly one, the one who ends the argument with a single pointed sentence.

Kasamatsu takes back his earlier sentiment, about Chiyoko being his favorite sibling. His favorite sibling is none of them.

“He does,” Chiyoko confirms. “He’s always been going on about _Kasamatsu-senpai_ this and _Kasamatsu-senpai_ that, ever since he joined your basketball team…” She trails off for a moment, her gaze going sharper. “Although, he’s been weirdly quiet recently. I wonder—”

“I’m going to show him around!” Kise announces loudly, grabs Kasamatsu’s arm, and then mercifully drags him away.

Kasamatsu doesn’t really think about where they’re going, focuses instead on the way Kise’s gripping onto his sleeve. He can’t see Kise’s face, but the backs of his ears are tinted a faint pink, and it’s somehow comforting to know he’s not the only one who’s embarrassed right now.

But as a result of that, Kasamatsu doesn’t realize where Kise’s taking him until the door slams shut behind them and he finds himself standing in the middle of Kise’s bedroom. Kasamatsu blinks, his eyes flickering from the hastily-made bed in the corner, to the mix of posters of basketballers and actors and models scattered across the walls, the dirty laundry strewn haphazardly on the floor, and then—

“Is that you?” Kasamatsu blurts out. Kise looks at him, follows his line of sight, and then immediately turns pink.

Above Kise’s desk is a massive poster, long enough to span the entire length of the wall. Kise smolders down at the both of them in black and white, one hand running through his hair. On the poster, he’s wearing a blazer thrown over a button-down, the sleeves rolled up artfully. There’s a brand logo Kasamatsu doesn’t recognize superimposed on the white space next to him.

“My sisters put it up while I was at school one day,” Kise mutters, “and I can’t figure out how to get it down without ruining the paint job.”

Distantly, Kasamatsu’s always known that Kise’s a model—of course he knows, Kise had basically announced it to the entire team the first time they met, and he never fails to remind Kasamatsu any opportunity he gets. One time they’d been in a book store because Kasamatsu was looking for the latest issue of some sports magazine, and Kise had practically shoved a fashion magazine featuring himself into Kasamatsu’s face. At the time Kasamatsu hadn’t really paid attention to it, simply gave it a cursory glance before pulling the magazine out of Kise’s hands and using it to smack him across the top of his head instead.

This, though—this is totally different.

“You don’t like having it up?” Kasamatsu asks. Kise snorts.

“I might be an egomaniac, senpai,” he says, “but having to stare at my own giant photoshopped face when I’m trying to get some homework done is a little much.”

Kasamatsu nods, but he isn’t really paying attention to Kise’s words. He’s still staring at the poster instead. There’s just something about it—Kise’s expression, maybe, or the way the light hits his face perfectly, making his best features stand out: the sharp curve of his jaw, the fullness of his lips, the bridge of his nose. Kise looks good like that, natural even, like he belongs on some higher plane that mere mortals like Kasamatsu could never even dream of.

“Please stop looking at it,” Kise begs, breaking Kasamatsu out of his reverie. Kasamatsu blinks, turns—and Kise’s standing there, blushing all the way up to the tips of his ears, so different from the highly-edited version of him on the poster, and yet still breathtakingly beautiful.

“Sorry,” Kise continues, rubbing the back of his neck. “I should’ve known my sisters would get all weird… I _warned_ them but they’ll never pass up any opportunity to humiliate me in front of—” He turns even pinker at that, quickly looks away. “What I mean is, don’t let them get to you. And sorry, again.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Kasamatsu says, reaching out to clap Kise on the shoulder, and everything suddenly clicks into place all at once.

He’s suddenly aware, acutely, of the points of contact between his palm and Kise’s skin, separated only by the thin layer of Kise’s shirt. They’re in Kise’s bedroom, in Kise’s house. Kise brought him here, introduced him to his sisters, shared this part of his life with Kasamatsu, and for a moment Kasamatsu forgets all about the whole _pretend dating_ thing, thinks instead of comfortable classroom lunches, and waiting for Kise outside the basketball courts, and the way Kise’s eyes had darted to his mouth like a secret, and then Kasamatsu isn’t thinking at all as he leans in and brushes his lips against Kise’s, feeling Kise’s breath stutter to a halt.

For a moment, Kise doesn’t move at all, barely even breathes—but then he’s leaning forward and kissing Kasamatsu _back,_ opening up and sighing into Kasamatsu’s mouth. Kasamatsu’s hand is still on Kise’s shoulder, and he tightens his grip, holding on. Kise’s breath is hot but his lips are soft, and Kasamatsu’s heart is beating a mile a minute because he wants this, has probably wanted it for a while now, and—

And Kise suddenly pushes Kasamatsu away, staggering backwards. His face is bright red, and he raises a shaky hand, touches it to his lips.

“You should go,” Kise says, his voice hoarse.

Kasamatsu opens his mouth to say something, but he can’t seem to get the words out. There’s nothing he could possibly say to express how he’s feeling right now, because Kise was just kissing him, he was kissing Kasamatsu _back_ , so why is he—

“Please,” Kise says, and when Kasamatsu meets his eyes it’s obvious just how miserable he is, saying that. “Just leave.”

“Right,” Kasamatsu tries to say, but his voice feels like it’s stuck in the back of his throat. The word comes out barely more than a whisper. “Right,” he says again, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll just go.”

He goes back downstairs, tries to smile at Kise’s sisters, manages to get out the words, “Sorry, family emergency, I have to leave.” Some of his distress must show on his face, because Kise’s sisters don't try to convince him to stay, just wave him off and express their well-wishes.

Then Kasamatsu’s out the front door, his feet taking him back home. He walks without having to think about it, barely processes the buildings and streets he passes by because it’s familiar to him now. It’s familiar to him, the distance from Kise’s home to his own, and Kasamatsu is an idiot for thinking that it meant anything at all. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Kasamatsu:** I fucked up.

 **Moriyama:** how many times do i have 2 tell u kasamatsu stop putting ur compression socks in the washing machine w the rest of ur laundry jeez how many pairs have u ruined already

 **Moriyama:** man its almost as if im the responsible adult in the relationship here

 **Kasamatsu:** Can you just

 **Kasamatsu:** Shut up for five seconds

 **Moriyama:** dude are you ok

 **Moriyama:** u didn't use punctuation in a text did something happen

 **Kasamatsu:** I kissed Kise.

 **Moriyama:** um……………ok?

 **Moriyama:** congratulations? im happy for you? i dont know what im supposed to say? make sure to use protection?

 **Kasamatsu:** Okay you know what just

-

“Dude, what’s wrong? You literally never call me.”

Moriyama answers immediately, and with no preamble, and Kasamatsu is grateful for small mercies.

“I fucked up,” he says again.

There’s a long silence over the phone. Kasamatsu’s curled up on his bed, lying on his side with his phone mashed against his ear. He feels pathetic, even more pathetic than he already was before, when he'd practically fled Kise's house in shame.

Moriyama’s still silent over the phone, so Kasamatsu draws a breath and tries again.

“The truth is, me and Kise… we weren’t – actually dating.”

More silence. Kasamatsu is starting to wonder if Moriyama’s even on the phone at all.

“Moriyama, are you—”

“ _I knew it_ ,” Moriyama announces, which is most definitely not what Kasamatsu was expecting. At all.

“What the hell?" Kasamatsu says. "How the hell could you’ve known?”

“I know everything,” Moriyama replies.

Kasamatsu purses his lips and says nothing. Moriyama sighs over the phone.

“Also, I got suspicious that you somehow managed to get over your emotional constipation and acknowledge your feelings for Kise without having a major crisis first.”

“Crisis? _”_ Kasamatsu repeats. A pause. “Wait, feelings? _”_ A longer pause. “And what do you mean _emotional constipation?_ ”

“Oh, Yukio-chan,” Moriyama sighs. Kasamatsu imagines him shaking his head wearily. Maybe pinching the bridge of his nose for dramatic effect. The only reason why Kasamatsu isn’t hanging up right now is because he really needs Moriyama to explain.

“Moriyama,” Kasamatsu says, hoping he sounds dangerous and pissed off instead of desperate and confused. “You better not be messing with me, or I swear—”

“Okay, okay,” Moriyama says, placating. “Let’s do this step-by-step, alright? Number one: crisis. You’re having a crisis right now.”

“I am not having a crisis right now,” Kasamatsu says mulishly, even though it is abundantly clear that the only word that could be used to describe his current situation right now is _crisis._

“Right, so now that we’ve acknowledged that,” Moriyama continues breezily, ignoring Kasamatsu, “number two: feelings. Specifically, yours. Specifically, for Kise Ryouta.”

“I don’t,” Kasamatsu says, and then stops, because he really doesn’t want to go down that path right now. There isn’t really much a point, because that’s the whole crux of the issue, isn’t it? The fact that Kasamatsu, against his better judgment, actually _likes_ Kise. That he’s probably liked Kise for a while now, if he’s being honest with himself. That he likes talking to Kise, and having lunch with him, and listening to him laugh, and the color of his hair under the evening sun, and _god,_ Kasamatsu is such a goddamn idiot.

“It’s not the end of the world, you know,” Moriyama says, and Kasamatsu hates how gentle his voice is. Moriyama has no business being gentle, and especially not to Kasamatsu, “to have a crush on someone.”

“It’s not just anyone,” Kasamatsu says. “It’s Kise Ryouta.”

“So?”

“We’re on the same team, for one, and I’m his captain, and it’s going to make things weird for the team—”

“But it was okay when you guys were just _pretending_ to date?” Moriyama interrupts, and Kasamatsu groans.

“That’s not the same,” he insists.

“Isn’t it?” Moriyama asks. “Because from the perspective of the team, all we saw was practice going on as normal, except afterwards the two of you would go off on your own and be disgustingly cute somewhere else—”

“Don’t,” Kasamatsu says, because he’s suddenly exhausted. He’s lying in bed, and it’s been a long day. The memory of Kise’s lips against his own is still fresh in his head, and he’s tired. Tired of his entire fake dating charade, and of his own stupidity, and of himself, for letting things go too far. “You don’t have to – I don’t know, _coddle_ me or whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Okay, now you’re just being stupid,” Moriyama says.

“It’s not even like he _likes_ me,” Kasamatsu says, and regrets it instantly. The words come out all wrong, petulant and childish and pathetic, and Kasamatsu wants nothing more than to take them back. He’s not like this, this isn’t _him_. He’s Kasamatsu Yukio, not some immature pre-teen girl nursing her first crush. He doesn’t do this.

Moriyama doesn’t reply. Silence stretches between them.

Then:

“But how do you know for sure?” Moriyama asks.

Kasamatsu makes a frustrated noise. “Come on,” he says. “Don’t do this.”

“Well, you can’t answer me, can you?”

“I know for sure because,” Kasamatsu says, and then suddenly he’s telling Moriyama everything, about that stupid confession that started it all, about their ramen date and about walking Kise home, about the matching conspiratorial smirks on Kise’s sisters’ faces, about that ad with Kise’s face on it, about kissing Kise, about being pushed away—

He realizes abruptly that he’s said too much. He closes his mouth, feeling himself flush. It’s a good thing Moriyama can’t actually see his face right now – it’s not like Kasamatsu needs to give Moriyama any more teasing ammo than he already has.

Except maybe Moriyama’s a better friend and a better person than Kasamatsu gives him credit for, because all he says is, “I always thought Kise had a thing for you.”

“Not this again—”

“Look,” Moriyama says. “He’s the one who came up with the whole faking dating in the first place right? Which, by the way, was an incredibly stupid and transparent plan and I can’t believe you actually went along with it.”

“That’s—”

“I mean, think about it. Why did Kise go ahead and propose something that dumb in the first place?”

“I don’t pretend to know how Kise’s mind works,” Kasamatsu snaps, but his heart’s not really into it, because even he has to admit that Moriyama has a point. His mind is spinning, his heart thrumming dangerously, and he hates it when Moriyama’s right, but he hates this feeling even more—the little twinge of hope, tempered by his sense of logic and reason that’s whispering in his ear: _it’s false hope, get a hold of yourself, look at you, your heartbeat already picking up in your chest like you’re some kind of giddy child._

“Yeah, well,” Moriyama says. “I wouldn’t know either, so why don’t you go talk to Kise himself?”

“That’s…” Kasamatsu swallows. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Stop being a baby,” Moriyama scolds. “Go talk to him.”

And then he hangs up, that bastard.

Kasamatsu rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He lets his hand holding his phone hit the bed with a dull thud; it slips out of his grasp, and part of him dimly registers that he should probably put it away so he doesn’t end up crushing it or knocking it onto the floor. Mostly, though, he finds himself thinking about Moriyama’s words, and Kise’s face, and the brief moment when he’d kissed _back_.

 _How do you know for sure?_ Moriyama asked.

 _I don’t know_ , Kasamatsu thinks. _And I’m not sure if I want to find out._

-

Kasamatsu doesn’t try and contact Kise at all over the weekend. Neither does Kise call or text, which is fine. Kasamatsu wasn’t expecting him to, and he’s glad that he doesn’t. It gives him time to think. He goes through the motions: catching up on homework, looking after his brothers, helping out around the house, but his heart’s not really into it. He can’t quite focus on anything else, and he hates it—hates how antsy he is, hates how it’s ruining his ability to do anything at all.

On Sunday night, he finds himself lying awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Nervous. There’s morning practice tomorrow; he genuinely considers skipping for a full minute, and then immedaitely hates himself for it. In the past two and a half years he’s only skipped morning practice once, that one time he got a really violent case of food poisoning. He’s dragged himself to practice with colds, with sprained ankles, with three hours of sleep the night before. He’s the _captain,_ he can’t skip practice just because of his own stupid personal problems. No matter what happens, even if he and Kise never exchange a single amicable word ever again for the rest of their lives—no matter what, the team comes first. Kasamatsu is just going to have to suck it up.

It’s with that thought that Kasamatsu finally manages to drift off to sleep. He wakes up the next morning exhausted, but he crawls out of bed, throws on his uniform and makes it to school a good fifteen minutes early. He’s the first one there, and he does laps around the court to clear his head. He tells himself the way his heart is pounding in his chest has everything to do with the physical exertion, and nothing to do with his own feelings.

He nods at his teammates as they file in. Moriyama walks in ten minutes later, and he gives Kasamatsu a pointed look from across the court but otherwise doesn’t try to talk to him.

More people enter. They’re stretching, talking about their weekends, changing into their sports uniforms.

Kise doesn’t show up.

Kasamatsu keeps glancing at the clock, watching the time tick by – but no, fifteen minutes have passed and Kise is still nowhere to be found. Maybe he’s just running late; that’s been known to happen once in a while, and every single time Kise always bursts in halfway through practice, winded and panting and babbling some inane excuse. And then Kasamatsu ends up kicking his ass and telling him to go get changed already, and Kise will speed off with an apology and a winning smile.

Except Kise doesn’t appear at all. There’s no sign at him for the entire morning, not even by the time they change back into their uniforms and head to class. Is Kise out sick today? Normally if he was he would’ve told Kasamatsu but… it’s not exactly business as usual, is it?

Kasamatsu’s thinking about it all throughout his classes. Apparently, being hopelessly distracted by Kise is his new normal now. Figures.

At lunch, he steels himself and heads upstairs to the first-year classrooms. He heads to Kise’s class and there he is, sitting at his desk, talking to a bunch of starry-eyed girls who have formed a ring around him. Still, Kasamatsu can see the way he grins brightly at them, gesturing with his hands as he tells some inane story. He can also see, with perfect clarity, the way the color drains from Kise’s face the moment he spots Kasamatsu standing in the doorway, looking straight at him.

He watches as Kise mutters some apology to his admirers, and at the same time all of them turn to look at him in almost perfect unity. It’s honestly kind of frightening. It gets even creepier when, instead of looking put out that Kasamatsu is stealing their precious Kise away from them, they start _giggling_ instead.

Kasamatsu’s first response is: what the hell?

And then he remembers they still haven’t actually broken up and the rest of the school still thinks they’re perfectly in love.

Just the thought of it is making Kasamatsu feel a little sick.

“Senpai,” Kise says.

“Why weren’t you at morning practice?” Kasamatsu asks.

Kise looks away. “I wasn’t feeling well.”

“If you’re well enough to come to school you’re well enough to come for practice,” Kasamatsu returns. On closer inspection Kise does look a little worse to wear – there are dark circles under his eyes, and the way he’s holding himself is a little… off. It’s lacking the cocksure confidence he always carries. Now, standing here in the doorway of his classroom, he just looks tired.

“I’ll come for practice after school,” Kise says. A pause. “Sorry.”

Kasamatsu sighs, rubbing his face. “Listen,” he begins. He looks down at his feet. “I… look, I know I messed up, but let’s leave the team out of this okay? Practice can still go on as normal. It doesn’t have to be awkward,” he says, even though he _feels_ really fucking awkward right now.

Kise shuffles his feet

“Okay,” he says. Another pause, longer this time. “You didn’t mess up, by the way. It was me. My fault.”

“What?” Kasamatsu looks up, his brow furrowed, but Kise’s still looking away. “But _I_ was the one who—”

“I shouldn’t have started this in the first place,” Kise says. His expression is carefully blank. “I know we have another week, but I think we should break up. Today.”

“Oh,” Kasamatsu says, his voice very small. He feels like he’s just been punched in the gut.

 _How do you know for sure?_ Moriyama had asked.

 _Well,_ Kasamatsu thinks, _now I know. Now I know for sure._

“Okay,” Kasamatsu says, louder this time, and is relieved when his voice doesn’t waver at all. “Sure. It was a stupid mistake anyway.”

Some indiscernible emotion flashes across Kise’s face, but it’s gone so quickly that Kasamatsu can’t be sure if he just imagined it.

“Great,” Kise says. Finally he looks up, and he smiles tightly. “See you at practice later then, senpai.”

“Yeah,” Kasamatsu says. “See you.”

As he heads back to his own classroom, he thinks he should be relieved. He thinks he should be feeling some sense of finality, that this whole sham’s over now, and things can go on as they were before.

Except – except it can’t, not anymore, because last week he didn’t know he was in love with Kise Ryouta.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, quietly. There’s nobody around to hear him, but he feels like a total idiot anyway.


	8. Chapter 8

Kasamatsu doesn’t tell anyone about the break-up. It’s not—it’s not like he consciously decides _not_ to. It’s not as if the mere thought of getting the words _I broke up with Kise_ out of his mouth makes him feel sick to the stomach, as if that admission actually _means_ something.

It just doesn’t come up, is all. Not at basketball practice, when he very pointedly spends the entire time not meeting Kise’s gaze. Not later that day, when his youngest brother asks him when’s the next time Kise-kun can come play basketball with them again. Not when Moriyama sends him a barrage of texts over the weekend all saying something along the lines of _have u talked to kise yet????_

Kasamatsu just replies with a curt _no_ , and tries to ignore the way his stomach clenches miserably as he sends that text.

 _God,_ he thinks. _Get a grip._

He spends his days waiting for the other shoe to just fucking drop already. Gossip travels fast in the exquisite brand of hell that is Kaijou High School. Gossip that involves Kise Ryouta travels fastest of all. Kasamatsu isn’t telling anyone about the break-up, but Kise definitely is. And even if he isn’t, for reasons Kasamatsu doesn’t even try to fathom, the fact that they’ve stopped talking to each other at all probably speaks volumes as it is.

In many ways, life goes back to normal. Kasamatsu eats lunch alone in his classroom. After practice, he goes straight home right after. No long walks to the other side of town. No sitting outside the basketball court after practice with a bottle of Pocari Sweat in his hands and anticipation thrumming through his veins.

Well, not _totally_ normal, because the whispers and muffled gossip still follow him no matter where he goes. But he’s gotten used to that by now, as sad as that sounds, so it doesn’t bother him too much.

No, what bothers him most of all is Kise’s absence from his life. He feels it as acutely as a missing tooth, or a phantom limb that he still reaches down to scratch once in a while only to remember that it’s gone.

All this to say Kasamatsu didn’t realize how large of a presence Kise had in his life until he didn’t have it anymore.

He’ll hear some trashy pop song on the radio, and think about how Kise would probably love it anyway. He’ll turn to his side during a break at practice, expecting to see Kise sitting next to him, red-faced and sweating, yet somehow still managing to look like he just stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. His phone will buzz with a notification and his heart still leaps into his throat thinking it might be Kise, even though it never is anymore.

And the worst part of it all is that these things weren’t even part of their stupid fake dating charade. They were just simple, everyday things that Kasamatsu didn’t even realize had gradually become part of his life, things that had wormed their way into his daily routine months and months ago, in a way that had become inseparable from the other parts of his life.

Kasamatsu realizes that he’s probably been in love with Kise all along, and now he just feels like an idiot for not noticing, and like even more of an idiot for somehow managing to ruin it all in the span of two weeks.

On Sunday night his phone buzzes, and right on cue, his feels his breath catch in anticipation even as he lifts his phone and—yup, it’s Moriyama. Of course it is.

 **Moriyama:** dude what did you do

 **Kasamatsu:** What makes you think I did anything?

 **Moriyama:** dont insult my intelligence yukio-chan its really very distasteful

 **Moriyama:** what did you do to kise???

 **Kasamatsu:** What makes you think it wasn’t the other fucking way round

 **Kasamatsu:** Oh god

 **Kasamatsu:** Forget I said anything

 **Moriyama:** what??????

 **Moriyama:** kasamatsu?????????

 **Moriyama:** KASAMATSU???????????????

_[3 missed calls from Moriyama Yoshitaka.]_

**Moriyama:** YOU CANT IGNORE ME FOREVER YOU BASTARD

Kasamatsu decides to finally pick up the phone.

“—swear to god, Kasamatsu Yukio, if you don’t pick up the phone—”

“And then what?” Kasamatsu interrupts.

“Oh my god, you actually picked up,” Moriyama says. “Does that mean you’re finally ready to actually get over your emotional constipation?”

“I’m going to hang up,” Kasamatsu warns.

“You seem to think _I’m_ the one who’s in need of help right now,” Moriyama says.

Kasamatsu opens his mouth to argue against that, considers the situation he’s in right now, and then promptly deflates.

“Good,” Moriyama continues. “Now explain what you meant by your cryptic ass text.”

“I didn’t mean anything, I just—” Kasamatsu looks down at his knees, his chest suddenly going tight. “Kise broke up with me. That’s all.”

Moriyama is silent for a long moment.

“So let me get this straight,” he says at last. “Kise Ryouta proposes this ridiculous fake dating scheme in an extremely transparent gambit to spend more time with you— _no,_ don’t you dare interrupt. You accept. You realize belatedly that you actually have a crush on Kise. You kiss him. He reacts badly. And then he breaks up with you.”

“Thanks, that really made me feel better about my pathetic little life.”

“Did you, at any point, actually _talk_ to Kise about how you feel?” Moriyama asks.

There’s a significant pause.

“God,” Moriyama exclaims. Kasamatsu can practically picture Moriyama throwing his hands up in frustration. “You really are hopeless.”

“There wasn’t really a lot of time for any discussion of feelings in between me getting my heart broken,” Kasamatsu retorts, and then abruptly realizes he’s said too much.

There’s another long pause over the phone. And then Moriyama says, “ _Oh_ , Kasamatsu,” so pityingly that it makes Kasamatsu’s skin crawl.

“I get it,” Kasamatsu snaps, just to get Moriyama to finally shut up. “I’ll talk to him, okay?”

“Good,” Moriyama says, and Kasamatsu thinks he can hear the smile in Moriyama’s voice, even over the static of their shitty connection. It makes all the fight leave his body in a rush, replaced with nothing but the quiet thrum of his heart.

“Hey,” he says, quiet, almost as if he doesn’t want Moriyama to hear him. “Thanks.”

But Moriyama does anyway, and Kasamatsu pictures him grinning widely over the phone as he says in return, “Anytime.”

When he hangs up, he finds himself actually feeling marginally better for the first time in days. It’s the sudden rush of positivity that makes Kasamatsu type out a text and send it before he can second guess himself.

 **Kasamatsu:** I know you probably don’t want to, but can we talk? Please? In person?

 **Kasamatsu:** Tomorrow after practice. Just stay behind for a few minutes.

Kasamatsu’s heart is wreaking havoc in his chest the whole time he’s waiting for a reply, but when his phone finally buzzes with a notification, his thinks his heart might have actually stopped.

 **Kise:** ok. see you tomorrow.

-

Kasamatsu likes to think he’s a good captain. He’s conducted practices through family emergencies, failed tests, and that one time Hayakawa accidentally hit him in the face with a basketball. But, as always, Kise Ryouta ends up being the one exception to the rule, because he finds himself distracted throughout the entire day. Thank god Coach is feeling exceptionally proactive today and leading most of practice; if not for that Kasamatsu has no idea if he’d be able to survive the day.

Then practice is winding down and Kasamatsu finds himself sitting in his usual spot outside the basketball court. His palms are sweaty – why are they so sweaty? – and no matter how much he tries to wipe them against his pants they feel perpetually coated in a layer of liquid. Kasamatsu wishes he wasn’t so gross. Kasamatsu wishes a lot of things that aren’t going to come true any time soon.

He has no idea how long he sits there for, but after what seems like an eternity Kise finally emerges from the basketball court. Kasamatsu sees his feet first, his school dress shoes and gray slacks walking towards to him; then he looks up at Kise’s face, his carefully neutral expression and the determined tilt of his jaw, and everything he was going to say, everything that he’d been rehearsing over and over again in his head, just vanishes right there and then.

Anyone with eyes could see Kasamatsu’s crush on Kise from outer space, it’s that obvious. How the hell had he missed it all this time?

“Ready to go?” Kise says, his corner of his lips quirking up into a wry smile, and Kasamatsu can only nod in response. He stands up, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and falls into step easily right next to Kise as they start to walk.

“So,” Kise says, “where are we going?”

“Uh… I was thinking I could walk you home,” Kasamatsu says, and Kise’s eyes widen. Shit. Maybe that was a bad idea. That route is too familiar, too intimate for this conversation.

Kasamatsu’s about to suggest they head somewhere else instead – _anywhere_ else, really – when Kise nods. “Sounds good,” he says.

So they walk in the silence. It is incredibly awkward. Kasamatsu’s mind can’t stop racing. He can’t stop thinking about the distance between himself and Kise, and he can’t stop thinking about what he’s going to say to Kise. If Moriyama were there he’d probably say something stupid, like, “Just tell him you like him and kiss him already,” but Moriyama had also implied that Kise has feelings for Kasamatsu, so he clearly has no idea what he’s talking about.

Not that Kasamatsu doesn’t want to just tell Kise he likes him and kiss him already. He wants to. He just doesn't think it’d go as well as Moriyama thinks it will.

“We had a quiz today,” Kise says, abruptly tearing Kasamatsu away from his thoughts. Kasamatsu turns to look at him, but Kise’s still looking straight ahead. He’s smiling, though – faint, but unmistakably a smile.

“Yeah?” Kasamatsu responds, trying to ignore the hammering of his heart in his chest. “Which subject?”

“Chemistry,” Kise says, sighing. “It felt like a bloodbath.”

“That’s because you didn’t study again, did you?”

“Well, the past couple of weeks have been a lot for me,” Kise answers, casual, too casual to be anything but a façade. He stares straight ahead, but Kasamatsu sees the way his smile goes wry and unhappy.

“Kise,” Kasamatsu starts to say, but Kise shakes his head.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why did you push me away when I kissed you?” Kasamatsu blurts out, and Kise immediately stops walking.

They’re standing in the middle of the street as the sun starts to set. It’s just like any of the other times Kasamatsu’s walked Kise home after practice, except it’s nothing like that at all.

Kise looks away. He hasn’t met Kasamatsu’s eyes this entire time they’ve been walking together.

“I didn’t mean for it to go that far,” Kise mumbles.

“What?”

“You weren’t supposed to actually like me!” Kise yells, and then immediately goes bright red.

“Wait, what?” Kasamatsu can’t stop staring at Kise, at the way he’s looking anywhere but at Kasamatsu’s face, the way he’s flushed all the way to the tips of his ears, and Kasamatsu feels his traitorous heart begin to hope.

“Nothing!” Kise squeaks. “Nothing,” he says again, in a normal volume this time. “Can we please pretend I didn’t say that?” he pleads.

“What do you mean I wasn’t supposed to like you? What _was_ supposed to happen?” Kasamatsu asks. Kise goes even redder.

“I don’t know, I just…” He runs his hand through his hair, staring down at the ground as if he’s hoping that a hole will spontaneously open up in the concrete and allow him to plunge directly into the depths of hell. “I don’t know, okay? I just thought maybe… I don’t know, that maybe I’d just have the best two weeks of my life and then go back to being sad and pining again! You weren't supposed to actually _like me back_ , so when you kissed me I just totally freaked out and fucked everything up, and now I’m just making things even worse, and please just make me stop talking already.” Kise looks downright miserable, but Kasamatsu knows he needs to press on, because his heart won’t stop pounding in his chest and his blood is rushing in his ears, and he thinks, _this is it_. It feels like the last five seconds of a game and he has the ball in his hands, and he’s standing there, feet braced on the floor, arms raised above his head, and somehow, he knows, he just _knows_ that the shot’s going to end up in the basket.

“Wait,” Kasamatsu says. “Go back. You said – sad and pining?”

“Don’t be cruel, senpai,” Kise begs.

“No, I’m not, I just – really?”

“Yes, really.” Kise looks down at his feet. “Surely you knew. I thought everyone knew. I don’t know how I could’ve been more obvious about my big fat crush on you.”

“You—what? You have a crush on me?”

“You didn’t know?”

It’s only then that Kise finally looks up to meet Kasamatsu’s eyes. He’s blinking at him in disbelief, his face still a very deep shade of red, and Kasamatsu thinks he’s never been surer about anything in his life.

“No,” he admits. “I think I have a track record of being oblivious about stuff.”

“Like what? Like that you _like_ me?” Kise’s voices rises with increasing hysteria. Kasamatsu feels his cheeks start to grow hot, but he refuses to break eye contact with Kise.

“I mean,” he says. “I guess. Yeah.”

And then Kise literally buries his face into his hands and groans. Kasamatsu is understandably confused. It’s just – Kise likes him, right? He just said that. And Kise also knows that Kasamatsu likes him back. So what’s the problem? Why aren’t they kissing yet? He really, really wants to get to kiss Kise again, but he can’t, because Kise currently has both his palms pressed hard against his cheeks, fingers obscuring his eyes from view.

“You weren’t supposed to like me _back_ ,” Kise repeats, his voice muffled by his hands.

“But why not?” Kasamatsu knows he sounds frustrated, but he _is._ Kise is difficult and spoiled and doesn’t make sense half the time, but Kasamatsu still wants him so much it feels like a physical ache in his chest.

“Because I didn't want you to start liking me under false pretenses!” Kise cries, still speaking directly into his hands. Kasamatsu sighs, and before he can really think about what he’s doing, he reaches out to take Kise’s hands in his, pulling them away so that he can finally see Kise’s face.

“Kise,” he says, keeping his voice low. “Honestly… I think I’ve liked you for a while now. I just never realized.”

Kise’s eyes snap open, staring at Kasamatsu.

“How long is a while?” he asks, his voice sounding strangled.

“I don’t know,” Kasamatsu admits. He really doesn’t – how long has it been since he’d started to see Kise as more than just a member of the team? Since he’d started noticing things about Kise, and wanting to be with him? “Does it matter?”

“It matters because I’ve liked you for _so long_ ,” Kise whines. “You can’t just… you can’t just tell me out of the blue that you’ve secretly had a crush on me this whole time, that’s not how it works—”

“What the hell are you talking about, Kise?” Kasamatsu’s still holding onto Kise’s hands; Kise still hasn’t pulled away.

“I’ve liked you for so long,” Kise says again, but this time he says it quiet and calm – resigned. “But I never thought you’d ever like me back, so I just… you know, I got used to the idea of it never happening. I don't know how to do this. I never even dared to think about it.” By the time he’s done talking his voice has dropped to barely more than a whisper. Kasamatsu squeezes his hands.

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry I never realized this whole time.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Kise says. “It’s my fault for falling for the most oblivious person on the planet.”

Kasamatsu laughs. “Yeah,” he concedes. “I guess I am.”

Kise breaks into a smile, small but genuine, and Kasamatsu can’t look away.

“Can I kiss you again?” Kasamatsu blurts out. Well, he’s already put his foot into his mouth so many times today, once more can’t possibly hurt.

Kise’s face goes startlingly red again, but after a brief pause, he nods.

“And you won’t push me away this time?” Kasamatsu continues. Kise yelps, burying his face into Kasamatsu’s shoulder.

“You’re such a jerk,” he complains. “I don’t even know why I like you.”

“Yeah,” Kasamatsu agrees. He turns his head to the side, just enough so that he can brush his nose against the side of Kise’s face.

“I meant it when I said I was sorry for taking so long,” Kasamatsu whispers. “I hope I can make it up to you now.”

Kise finally lifts his head, and even with his mussed-up hair and red face and trembling lips, Kasamatsu still thinks he looks absolutely wonderful.

“Well, senpai,” Kise says, squaring his jaw mulishly. “Are you going to kiss me or what?”

Kasamatsu doesn’t really have a choice but to comply.


End file.
